


Much Happens That One Expects The Least

by Odekiisu



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Children being silly, Gen, Language Barrier, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odekiisu/pseuds/Odekiisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two clones crash on an unknown planet. A tiny adventure with Vikings ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scoff not at guests

_Scoff not at guests nor to the gate chase them, but relieve the lonely and wretched._

_-Old Norse proverb_

 

*** * ***

 

Fríða's husband was away in town when she heard a knock on the door. When she went to open the door she expected to see her Vébrandr back early, so what she saw shocked her.

 

There were two tall men, both in stark white armour, one of them wearing a strange-looking helmet and the other had close-cropped hair. Thralls? But they didn't look like thralls, and she'd seen a few warriors with short hair as well. And these two at her door were obviously warriors, even if she'd never seen anything quite like them. Are they warriors from Asgard? Does this have anything to do with the falling star two days ago?

 

One of them, the one without the helmet, asked something.

 

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” Odd, there hadn't been any news of any foreigners nearby, and in this small corner of the land news travelled fast. The strangers looked just as confused as she was. (Well, at least one of them did - she couldn't see the other's face behind that helmet.)

 

The man gestured to the other, who took his helmet off and said something, obviously trying a different language, but no matter what they said, she just smiled blankly and shook her head. 

 

She then gestured to them and the house, asking whether they'd like to come in. Even though she was wary of strangers, she had always been taught to be hospitable towards everyone. Besides, if they were warriors from Ásgard, or elves (though she'd never heard any stories describe elves like this), then it would be very foolish indeed to turn them away.

 

Dísa, her sister-in-law, upon hearing the strange language, called, “Who is it?” but stopped midway between the hearth and the door when she saw the men. They did look rather scary, Fríða admitted to herself, and with the two women being the only ones in the house... 

 

As they stepped inside, Fríða quietly reminded Dísa to close her mouth. “It isn't polite to stare.”

 

Her sister-in-law cleared her throat. “Welcome, travellers. I am Dísa, and this is my sister Fríða. I'm afraid the master of the house isn't here at the moment...” Seeing their puzzled looks, she turned to Fríða.

 

“They don't seem to speak a word of our language.” Trying simpler approach, she gestured to herself, “I'm Fríða,” and then to her sister-in-law, “She's Dísa.”

 

One of them (only now did she notice that she couldn't tell them apart if it wasn't for a symbol tattooed on one's head) nodded in understanding and said “Fríða, Dísa,” and pointed to each of them, as if asking confirmation. They nodded.

 

The other one pointed to himself and said something that sounded vaguely like “Ekko” and his companion, the one with the tattoo, introduced himself as “Faivs.” 

 

Dísa looked around nervously. “I think I should go and tell Leiknir. Could you keep an eye on the dinner?” She then quickly disappeared out of the door.

 

Fríða sighed. She also had to keep an eye on the two strangers. It felt very awkward, not being able to talk to them. Glancing towards them, she noticed that they were still standing there, looking rather bewildered.

 

“You can sit down.” She pointed at the bench running along the side of the longhouse. They did, and started talking in that strange language of theirs. Whatever they were saying, it looked like they were having an argument.

 

 

*** * ***

 

 

“Happy now?”

 

“How should I have known we landed in the only place in the galaxy where they don't speak Basic?”

 

Echo sighed. “I told you we should have stayed near the ship. The regs say-”

 

“That our ship is completely _shuk'yc_ , there is no way we can repair it on our own, and we can't send a distress call either, because there's no signal. Maybe those people can help us.” 

 

“And how are they going to do that if we don't understand them and they don't understand us?” Echo asked, still sceptical. 

 

“I'm sure we'll work something out. There must be someone here who can understand Basic...” (Fives still couldn't believe that the people here didn't speak Basic. Surely this was an isolated case...)

 

*** * ***

 

 

“What's this I hear about strangers who don't speak our language?” Leiknir, Dísa's husband, stepped inside. Fríða motioned to the pair, who had stood up when they heard the door opening. Leiknir froze. Fríða, ever the well-mannered one, decided to introduce them.

 

“Leiknir, these are...” Damn. She had forgotten which one was which. Looking somewhat amused, the two warriors (quite obviously used to this) decided to take things into their own hands.

 

“Echo,” said the one with a hand-print on his armour, and the other, the one with the tattoo, said, “Fives.”

 

Fríða made a mental note about them and continued, “Ekko, Faivs,” (Fives flinched at the horrible accent), “this is Leiknir.” 

 

“Strange names,” said Leiknir. “So what language do you speak?” And he went through every language and dialect he knew, even the fragments of Latin he'd once heard, but to no avail. They looked just as confused as he was when they tried their language. One of them muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a string of curses. Leiknir replied with something similar. “What are we going to do with you?”

 

“First of all, we need to feed them,” called Fríða from the hearth, “Remember what we were taught about being nice to travellers? For all we know, they might have come from over the shimmering path. So make yourself useful and help me with the dinner.”

 

“I still haven't finished repairing the fence...” Leiknir couldn't get out fast enough.

 

Fríða and Dísa laughed at the sudden departure and laughed even more seeing the travellers' baffled expressions.

 

“Leiknir,” Dísa nodded at the door, “Couldn't cook to save his life.” She pointed at the pot simmering over the hearth, mimed stirring, lifted an imaginary spoon as if to taste the food and made a face. They looked confused at first, but then it dawned on Echo and he quickly explained it to Fives. Soon they, too, were chuckling.

 

 

Echo set his bucket down on the table they'd helped unfold (pure genius, these folding tables!) and walked over to the fire where the women were busy preparing a meal. It smelled delicious. Fríða, who was stirring some sort of soup, smiled at him and then exchanged a few words with Dísa, who went to fetch something or another. Fríða then set him to stir the soup (she had to show him how) and continued chopping the vegetables Dísa had left on the table.

 

“Echo, since when do you know how to cook?”

 

“I don't,” he replied, much to Fives' amusement, “She's teaching me.”

 

Dísa reappeared with a bowl and a large loaf of bread under one arm and a jug in her hand. She set the jug on the table and shooed Fives away. He looked around, trying to find a place where he could put his and Echo's buckets. Fríða pointed at a chest standing in a corner and he put both helmets on top of it.

 

The women looked like they might get him to do some cooking as well, so he suddenly decided he needed some fresh air.

 

Using simple gestures he asked permission to go outside and left as soon as Fríða nodded, but not before catching a snigger and something sounding like “Just like Leiknir,” from one of the women. And Echo as well.

 

 

*** * ***

 

 

“Fasti! Seems like one of our guests has decided to join us,” called Leiknir. Véfastr, Fríða's 9-year-old son, looked up from his work of removing leaves from branches and cutting them to length to see a tall man in white armour.

 

“He really doesn't speak our language?”

 

“Doesn't seem like it.” Leiknir walked over to the boy. Véfastr looked a bit frightened, but also curious.

 

“What's his name?”

 

“Erm... Faivs, I think. I'm not sure, they're so similar one cannot tell them apart.”

 

Véfastr looked even more curious. “Are they twins?”

 

“They must be. Fríða thinks they're not from our world.” Leiknir looked sceptical, but Véfastr's eyes became as big as saucers and he stared at the man.

 

As if feeling his gaze, Fives looked at him. Véfastr quickly looked down and continued his work. Leiknir took the branches he'd already cut to length and went to hammer them into the ground where the fence was broken. Fives walked over, looking like he'd never seen someone build a wattle fence before. Odd, thought Leiknir. No matter where he's from, they must have fences.

 

Fives observed for a bit, and then picked up one of the still-green branches and wove it between the posts like he'd seen Leiknir do. Leiknir nodded, for someone who looks like he'd never seen a fence before, he sure knows how to build one.

 

Together, the work went much faster and soon they were finished.

 

“Thank you.” Only then did Leiknir notice both Véfastr and his little sister, Véfriðr, staring at them from near the barn. Fives followed his gaze and smiled at the two children, who promptly fled.

 

“Véfriðr! Véfastr! Get back here!” bellowed Leiknir. Slowly, they reappeared from around the corner. “Now, how do you welcome a guest?”

 

Little-Fríða, as she was called by her family, squeaked a “Hello!” from behind her brother's back, but Fasti, the bolder one, said, “Hello, my name is Véfastr Vébrandsson.”

 

Fives, guessing what the boy said, replied, “I am Fives. CT-27-5555.”

 

Véfriðr giggled. Véfastr tried to say it. He didn't quite manage. Fives rolled his eyes.

 

He drew five short lines on the ground. “Fives.” The children looked puzzled. He touched each line as if counting them. “Fives,” he said again.

 

Véfriðr replied, “Fimm.” At Leiknir's raised eyebrows, she counted the lines: “Ein, tveir, þrir, fjórir, fimm.”

 

“Five?” laughed Véfastr. “He's called 'Five'? Does he have four brothers then?”

 

“Brothers?” asked Fives. He wasn't sure what they were saying, but the word 'bróðir' sounded an awful lot like 'brother'.

 

“Brothers. I am Véfriðr's brother,” explained Véfastr.

 

“I have hundreds of brothers.” said Fives, shaking his head.

 

“Did he... just say he has a hundred brothers?” Leiknir couldn't believe his ears.

 

“A hundred?” asked Véfriðr. “That's many, many, many brothers. Do you really have a hundred brothers?” Fives seemed very confused about the long sentence, so she explained. “You,” she pointed at him, “have one hundred-” and she looked around to see what she could use to represent a hundred, finally settling on pretending to count the blades of grass, “-brothers?” she pointed at her own brother and tilted her head quizzically. Fives nodded. 

 

“How is that possible?” asked Leiknir.

 

“Is he...” Véfastr gestured at the house, indicating Echo, “...your brother?”

 

After a moment of confusion, Fives nodded. “Yes, Echo is my brother.”

 

At that moment, Fríða called “Dinner's ready!” from the door. Véfriðr ran to her, chattering excitedly about how their guest is called 'Five' and that he has a hundred brothers and how can he manage because she thinks her _one_ brother is annoying.


	2. Open road

_From his weapons on the open road, no man should step one pace away._

_-Old Norse proverb_

 

*** * ***

 

Echo was learning fast. He already knew the names of a dozen items in the kitchen and several other words related to cooking, thanks to Fríða and Dísa naming everything they used. They didn't let him do anything other than stir the soup, especially after an incident involving an egg. At some point Fríða had given him a bundle of clothes and sent him off into another room to change. The clothes had seemed a bit small at first, but they were comfortable. He put his armour and bodysuit on the bench next to their buckets.

 

The women had already set the table and Fríða went to call Leiknir and Fives in. Before they could enter though, a little chatterbox ran through the door, chased by a slightly-larger boy looking about eight (that is, about as big as Echo had been when he was four), both talking over each other rather loudly before Fríða shushed them.

 

“What's this?” Echo asked Fives.

 

“Someone's children. They are capable of asking a thousand questions per minute without pause.” Fives seemed impressed.

 

“I can definitely see that.”

 

Only then did Fives notice that Echo was wearing civilian clothes. Echo grinned. “Fríða gave me these clothes. I figured it would seem rude if I refused.”

 

 

*** * ***

 

 

After the meal (the most delicious one the clones had ever eaten) the children started playing. Fríða had given Fives a bundle of clothes as well, and he was changing in another room. Echo was sitting on one of the two benches running the length of the entire house and watching Vefastr playing an odd game with his sister. He drew a picture on a slate and Véfríðr tried to guess what it was. Then, suddenly, he stood up and showed a picture to Echo.

 

“Hvat er þat?”

 

Echo looked at the drawing. It was an animal, that much he could guess. But what kind of animal? He thought a bit about it. It looked like a...

 

“Horse?”

 

“Ho-rs,” mimicked Vefastr. Then he said, “Vér segjum hross. Hestr.”

 

Fives came back, looking very odd in civilian clothing, which, as it happens, was too small for him. Vefastr's next picture-question was directed at him. He didn't know what to make of the bundle of wavy lines and curves. Finally he gave up with a shrug.

 

“Skip,” declared Vefastr proudly. Véfríðr said something in the universal 'hey-not-fair' tone.

 

Then Fives got an idea. He stretched a hand out and asked, “May I try?”

 

Vefastr shrugged and gave the tablet to him. Looking over his shoulder, Echo saw that he was drawing a ship - their ship. He showed it to Vefastr, who looked at it this way and that, but couldn't figure out what it was. He gave it to Véfríðr, who just looked at it with wide eyes. She passed it on to Fríða (who, they had figured out, was the children's mother). She was just as bewildered as the children, and handed the tablet back, asking what it is.

 

“Ship,” said Echo.

 

“Our ship,” added Fives. Fríða looked confused.

 

“Sheep,” said Véfríðr. “Skip? Er skip? Hvat skip?” Both Echo and Fives shrugged. They didn't know what 'skip' meant, and Vefastr's drawing hadn't been very useful.

 

“Could 'skip' be their word for 'ship', do you think?” asked Echo. “Maybe they do have some technology? Or is their ship a different thing?” They had already figured out that wherever they were, these people didn't know a thing about some kinds of technology. They had never seen a blaster before, and the helmets left them completely mystified.

 

“Maybe,” said Fives. He picked up the stylus and drew two small stick figures next to the ship. “Echo, Fives,” he said, pointing to them. “Our ship,” he repeated. “Flying.” He gestured to the sky.

 

Then Fríða did something unexpected: she asked for the stylus and drew her own picture on the side of Fives' detailed sketch.

 

She showed it to the troopers. It looked like a comet, or a meteor. She then raised her eyebrows, asking something.

 

“Wait,” said Echo, “Our crash could have looked like a meteor to them, wouldn't it?” He pointed to the ship, and then to Fríða's drawing. She didn't understand. He pointed again, trying to use some words. “That,” it seemed the word was familiar to them, “is the same as that.”

 

Fríða gasped.

 

“Dísa! They are from Ásgard!”

 

Dísa poked her head out of her room. “Huh?”

 

“Come and look at this.”

 

Leiknir, having heard Fríða as well, came after Dísa. “What- How do you know?”

 

Fríða pointed at the drawings. “They're saying that the falling star we saw two days ago is their ship.”

 

Leiknir looked at the drawing. “What kind of a ship is this?”

 

“A flying ship,” said Véfríðr, and asked the warriors, “Why did the sky-ship fall down?” She held her hand in the air and then patted the ground.

 

Echo, guessing her meaning, smacked Fives. “Idiot.” He tapped his temple with a finger in what must have been a universally known gesture. Eyebrows rose. They understood well enough what he wanted to say.

 

Fives tried to explain that their ship was broken, but he only managed to confuse them. Echo took the tablet, smoothed parts down and drew pieces of the ship on the 'ground'. “Our ship now,” he explained. 

 

“Broken?” asked Leiknir. “The ship fell down and now it's broken?” He used gestures to clarify his meaning. They nodded.

 

“Can you fix it?” inquired Vefastr. Seeing that they didn't understand, Leiknir turned to Fives.

 

“The fence. It was broken. We fixed it.”

 

Fives got it quite quickly and explained it to Echo, who said, “Yes and no.”  


They somehow managed to explain that they needed some way to replace the parts that had been the most damaged, but then Dísa said, “Tomorrow,” sent the children to bed and took out blankets for their guests. Fríða explained to them that they'd have to sleep on the long, wide benches along the sides of the house.

 

 

*** * ***

 

 

In the afternoon of the next day, Fríða's husband Vébrandr arrived home.

 

Fríða was inside spinning yarn and Echo was sitting beside her, sharpening a knife when the door opened and Vébrandr stepped in. His look of surprise was quickly replaced by a glare.

 

“So this is what you do, Ragnfríðr, when I'm in town? Invite thralls to our home?”

 

Fríða rose and replied, “You are a fool, Vébrandr Grettir, for making assumptions where none are needed.”

 

“Who is this stranger then?”

 

“He is a warrior from the home of the gods. He and his companion arrived yesterday evening, looking for shelter.”

 

“From the home of the gods? I thought you were smarter than that, Fríða.” 

 

“You didn't see them when they arrived!”

 

Vébrandr shook his head. “No. Just think for a moment, Fríða! How can they be from Ásgard?”

 

Echo watched the exchange, trying to figure out what was said. It almost sounded like poetry, but there was no mistake that they were arguing over something (probably him). 

 

Leiknir, who had probably heard the shouting, came inside with Fives. “What's going on?”

 

Vébrandr turned on Leiknir. “And you... I can't even trust you to keep my house safe when I'm away, can I?”

 

“Calm down, Vébrandr, and listen to your wife! She knows many a thing that you do not.”

 

Someone screamed outside. Leiknir grabbed his sword and shield from where they were hanging and ran outside after Vébrandr. Echo and Fives, sensing trouble, took their blasters and followed.

 

The children were running towards the house as fast as they could, shouting something, and behind the gate Echo could see three men, one of them holding Dísa. Vébrandr threatened them, but they just laughed. Then one of them punched Vébrandr. 

 

Leiknir seemed to have had enough and attacked them, but they easily held him and Vébrandr off, while still keeping a struggling Dísa from escaping. 

 

Echo hesitated, not really wanting to shoot without knowing who exactly these people were. Fives, though, had no such qualms and shot the man holding Dísa. He gave a shout of pain and grabbed his burnt shoulder, letting Dísa run away back to the house. The shot only seemed to distract him, though, not bring him down as Echo would've expected it to, and he attacked furiously, with speed and strength seemingly impossible for an injured man. He lashed out with his short sword and Fives was barely able to dodge out of the way. The man was too quick for Fives. Echo shot at him, nearly missed, then shot again just to make sure and turned his attention to the others. Fives should be able to deal with him now.

 

The others were still fighting, but the newcomers now appeared careful and hesitant instead of angry, glancing their way whenever they could. Leiknir seemed to be gaining an upper hand against his opponent despite the fact that he was limping heavily, but Vébrandr was in a bit of a pickle. Tired from a long day on the road, he was only barely able to block his opponent's blows. That, added to the fact that his opponent was the only one of the three who had a shield made the fight rather unfair in Echo's opinion. He took a few steps forward, carefully staying out of range. The man noticed it and took a few steps back, saying something in a half-frightened, half-angry tone. Echo shot once at his shield, just to intimidate him a bit more. He didn't really want to kill the man. He preferred killing droids.

 

It didn't work.

 

Echo shot again as the man attacked, and this time he did shoot to kill.

 

The problem was, the man refused to die.


	3. The madman

_The madman often tells the truth._

_-Old Norse proverb_

 

*** * ***

 

Dísa ran back to the house as fast as she could. She'd been on the way to the neighbouring farm when she saw the berserkers kill a man. She had screamed and tried to run, but they caught her easily.

 

She wasn't quite sure what it was that made them let her go, but the moment she had felt the man's grip loosen she had bolted. She ran inside and slammed the door.

 

“What happened? What's going on?” Fríða was very nervous.

 

“Berserkers. They killed one of our neighbours.” Dísa told the children to go and hide in the bedroom. Naturally, Fasti didn't want to.

 

“They might kill my husband!” Fríða ran outside, followed by Dísa, who tried to get her to go back to the house.

 

Suddenly Fríða stopped, shocked. Dísa turned to see what had startled her so. It was lightning, or so it seemed to her. A bright blue lightning bolt, coming from Fives' hand and flying straight into the berserker's chest. Only a god could control lightning like that. So Fríða had been right: these two were indeed gods. But seeing the proof surprised her more than she thought it would.

 

A little distance away, another man was fighting both Echo and Vébrandr. He was obviously already in a trance, not feeling any pain, his reflexes faster than normal. Echo shot at him, once, twice, and the man didn't even slow down. The third shot, aimed at the man's head, finally took him down. 

 

 

*** * ***

 

Fives nudged the man with his foot. He seemed dead enough, but these men had proven that they weren't normal, so he wanted to be sure. He then noticed that the women had come out and were looking at him and Echo strangely. He frowned. They should have stayed inside. If there had been more than these three men, things could've gotten _very_ dangerous.

 

Turning around, he saw Vébrandr and Echo standing over the corpse of the second man. The third had, apparently, run away - Fives could see him in the distance, quickly disappearing between the trees. Leiknir, however, looked like he was about to collapse. Besides the large gash in his thigh, his left arm was bleeding heavily - his shield had shattered - and looked like it might be fractured. These... 'berserkjar', he had heard someone call them, sure could hit hard.

 

Meanwhile, Vébrandr had started moving the bodies out of the gate and across the road, and with the help of Echo and Fives, started digging a grave for them while the women were fussing over Leiknir.

 

*** * ***

 

Dísa ran to her husband and ordered him to sit down somewhere so that she could tend to his wounds. Leiknir, of course, insisted he was fine and that really, it's just a scratch, don't worry.

 

"You don't look fine to me," said Fríða. And it was true: he had taken the worst beating out of all four of them. Echo and Fives were uninjured (of a normal human she would have found it hard to believe, after fighting three berserkers, but she just considered it as yet another proof that these two were gods) and Vébrandr had only gotten a few scratches before Echo had intervened. But Leiknir, it appeared, had survived through luck only. "Leiknir, you should come inside and let me look at that arm. It looks rather nasty."

 

When they were back inside the longhouse and Fríða had made sure that Leiknir's wounds were properly cleaned and bandaged, and Fasti had been scolded for sneaking out to look at the fight, Dísa had announced that it was time for dinner. While she and Fríða were warming up the soup from yesterday and adding more vegetables to make it last a bit longer, Vébrandr told of his journey into town and how he had managed to get something-or-other for a good price. Personally, Dísa had never bothered to listen when her brother was blabbering on like that. Fríða listened, but their guests appeared thoroughly confused.

 

Then Leiknir brought out the hnefatafl board and set it down on the table, asking Echo and Fives whether they played or not.

 

"What is it?" asked Fives.

 

"It's a strategy game."

 

"We learn," said Echo.

 

Leiknir set the pieces up on the board. He played the Swedish king's side, explaining the rules while playing, and Vébrandr played against him. Vébrandr won the first game and Leiknir won the second, though Dísa suspected that Vébrandr might have let Leiknir win on purpose - nobody won _that_ easily against Vébrandr, even if he was playing the side of the invading Muscovites. The third game, Echo decided he might give it a try. He played well enough, but in the end lost against Leiknir.

 

"When you play the Swedish side, the only piece that matters is the king. Don't worry so much about the others - they're there to keep the Muscovites from capturing the king, but they mustn't be in the king's way." Leiknir used gestures to make his meaning clear and Echo nodded.

 

"Only get king here." He tapped the corner square. "I understand." 

 

Fives said something, and they both laughed.

 

"What?"

 

Fives pointed at two white pieces and said, "Fives, Echo," then at the other white pieces, "Brothers," and at the king, "Jedi."

 

*** * ***

 

Fasti knew that he probably wasn't allowed to touch the things that made lightning, but he was just curious and wanted to see what they were. He would be careful, nothing would happen and he wouldn't get caught.

 

He snuck away from the table and went to where the two men had put their things and found the lightning-makers there, right next to their odd-looking helmets. They looked like short metal tubes with odd bits on them. He ran his hand gently along the edge of one, wondering what all the different bits were for. He had heard of a magician who could make lightning-like sparks jump between pieces of metal - maybe he used something like this? And how does this kind of magic work? Fasti had always wanted to be a magician, even though the other boys said that magic was for girls. Maybe these gods would teach him, or even take him with them, like Þórr and Loki took Þjalfi in the stories.

 

He took one of the lightning-makers in his hand, imagining what it would be like to live with the gods. He would learn magic, and kill trolls, and...

 

Someone shouted. There was a loud _bang!._ Someone screamed.

 

*** * ***

 

A quiet noise from beside the door drew Fives' attention. Looking in that direction, he saw Fasti with one of their blasters in his hand. He panicked. "Hey! Put that down!"

 

The shout startled Fasti and he accidentally fired the blaster. Dísa yelped and dropped the bowl she was carrying, Leiknir tried to get up but stumbled over something and Little-Fríða screamed. Echo was already up and scolding the boy. He took the blaster away and then, swearing quietly, removed the tibanna cartridges to prevent another accident like that.

 

When most of the chaos was over, they found that Dísa had been shot in the shoulder. Fríða quickly took the bandages out again and sent Vébrandr to fetch clean water, while Leiknir yelled at Fasti, who was crying from the shock and repeating that he's sorry and he didn't mean to.

 

*** * ***

 

Fríða had never seen a wound like this before. It looked a bit like a burn, yet it was confined to one, small area and was deeper than it should be. She decided it should be treated as a burn, but wasn't quite sure about it. She wanted to ask Echo or Fives, but she doubted they knew how to explain it to her. She treated it with a mixture of various herbs and fat, humming a spell-song while working to speed up the healing process.

 

While she was doing that, Echo came and looked at her work for a bit, frowning. "Not good."

 

She looked at him, puzzled. "Then what would work?"

 

He said a word she didn't recognize, then added, "Ship. We go. There is."

 

"Then I'm coming with you."

 

*** * ***

 

Fríða carefully picked her way through the shrubbery and fallen branches, keeping her eyes on the ground so she didn't notice that they had arrived at a clearing until she nearly ran into Echo. Looking up, she gasped. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen: a line of broken and scorched trees, leading to what looked like a huge, angular lump of metal. _This is their ship?_ Of course, maybe gods could afford to make a ship out of metal that actually worked, but still, it was hard to believe.

 

One of the men climbed inside the ship and, after a bit of time, a crash and some swearing, light appeared. Fríða took a step back. This must be some kind of magic, more complex than she'll ever be able to understand. She was almost afraid of it.

 

But then Echo invited her inside. She hesitantly took a step in, looking around. It was bright, but the light was cold unlike sunlight or firelight. It was all made of metal as well: metal walls, metal doors, odd metal tables with all sorts of buttons and flashing lights on them. Echo went over to one of those tables and started fiddling with something, while Fives disappeared into the back of the ship.

 

She watched as Echo pushed several buttons that made lights and pictures appear on a piece of glass, along with strange runes she had never seen before. Suddenly he frowned at something, pushed more buttons, and called Fives.


	4. What you learn

_Make deft use of what you learn to the degree you can gather._

_-Old Norse proverb_

 

*** * ***

 

Echo tapped the screen. "We've had signal - weak, yes, but still signal - every day at around 0900. If we can amplify it somehow, we can send a distress call."

 

Fives leaned closer, then shook his head. "It's too faint to send anything. We've got no guarantee of anything actually going through."

 

"We still have to try. Maybe... We're in a forest, so the trees probably block some of it. If we can find an open hill or something..."

 

"...We would probably have enough range to send a short transmission," finished Fives. "That _could_ actually work."

 

Echo nodded, then changed the topic, "Got the medkit?"

 

"Yup." Fives held up the box.

 

"Then let's get going. I want to be back there before sunset."

 

"Just a moment..."

 

*** * ***

 

On the way back, both men looked very excited about something they had seen. Indeed, once they were back at the house and Echo had shown Fríða how to apply the clear gel, they immediately started trying to say something. So far, they had only managed to confuse her. Finally, Fives gave up. He took Fasti's wax tablet (now always on the bench in case anyone needs it) and drew a couple of triangles on it. "Where?"

 

Little-Fríða, who seemed to be always able to guess what they were trying to say, looked at the drawing for a moment. "Are these mountains?" To make her meaning clear, she said, "Ground," and did a wavelike motion with her hand.

 

"Yes!" Fives seemed relieved, and so did Echo. "Where is?"

 

Vébrandr thought for a moment. "There are no mountains close here, but there are hills to the north."

 

"Tomorrow, there. After sunrise."

 

"Why?" asked Dísa.

 

Echo and Fives exchanged a few words, and then tried to explain with gestures and drawings, but no matter how hard they tried, nobody could understand anything other than that it was important for them to be on a hilltop by midmorning tomorrow.

 

*** * ***

 

That night, there was fire in the sky.

 

"Little-Fríða! Fasti!" Dísa called, "Come and take a look!"

 

Fríða looked up. "What is it?"

 

"The northern lights," said Dísa, and called the rest of the family to look at the show. It wasn't very bright yet, but she knew that as the night grew darker, the lights would get brighter and more visible.

 

They gathered at the north end of the house and watched as the flickering, flame-like lights brightened, then dimmed as if covered by smoke, and brightened again. Even Echo and Fives appeared amazed by the beautiful display. Vébrandr asked them what makes the northern lights appear, since they were from the sky and they should know, but he only got a shrug for an answer.

 

*** * ***

 

In the morning of the next day, well before sunrise, they left. Fríða had given Vébrandr enough bread and dried meat for the three of them to have breakfast on the way and then some, just in case they were away longer than expected. Vébrandr had refused at first, saying that they won't be too far away from any settlements and that if really necessary, he could hunt, there's no reason to waste the food at home. But Fríða had insisted, and so he ended up carrying nearly twice as much as he had expected.

 

They followed the road up to the village (where Echo and Fives, wearing their white armour again, drew quite a bit of attention from those already up and about) where they took the smaller path that went towards the north and those hills Echo and Fives wanted to reach by midmorning. That was one thing Vébrandr didn't understand: why midmorning? If they had agreed with being there by early afternoon, they could have left a bit after sunrise, and maybe he could have slept a bit longer. Lack of sleep made Vébrandr grumpy. It's not as if a few hours could make that much of a difference.

 

By sunrise, they were already halfway there. They had stopped to eat an hour ago, some distance away from the village. Now they were walking along the path, Vébrandr in front, followed by Fives and then Echo, who was carrying a rather odd backpack. Both of them were wearing those strange helmets that covered their faces (Vébrandr was actually expecting them to trip and fall over any moment, but it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon).

 

About an hour later the ground began to slope slightly upwards and they saw the hills ahead. They were by no means tall, not like the mountains Vébrandr had been to during one of the raids he'd been on when he was young, but they still stood quite a bit higher than the rest of the surrounding area, with large rocks sticking up. From then on, the ground became rougher and the path all but disappeared between the small bushes and rocks.

 

When they had reached the top of the highest hill, Echo took some strange item out of his bag and began adjusting the various buttons and knobs on it, while Fives walked around, seemingly without purpose. Then suddenly he turned around and said something to Echo, who nodded and, after pressing one more button, began talking. After a while, Vébrandr understood that he was repeating one single phrase. He shook his head and sat down on one of the rocks. Better leave the gods alone with their strange rituals.

 

This continued for about half an hour, until Fives said something and Echo stopped and packed the strange device back into his backpack.

 

The next morning Fasti was outside, playing vikings with Little-Fríða when he heard a rather strange noise. He looked around, trying to spot its source, and saw a dark thing in the sky that looked like a bird, yet didn't. The longer he looked at it, the bigger it got until he could tell that it looked like a box with wings. At that point, Little-Fríða began tugging on his sleeve and telling him to come inside, she was scared. He slowly walked backwards to the house, his eyes never leaving the thing still steadily getting closer. He turned around, opened the door, stepped in and slammed it behind him. Little-Fríða ran to their mother and hugged her.

 

"What happened?" asked Fríða.

 

"There's something flying towards us. It isn't a bird. It looks like a huge dragon," said Fasti. He could even hear the noise it made from inside now.

 

Suddenly, Echo and Fives stood up, took their helmets and weapons and went outside. Fríða and Vébrandr followed and Fasti did as well, out of curiosity.

 

The box (because that's what it was, a metal box with wings and other weird bits sticking out) was quite close now, and Fives waved at it. It adjusted its course slightly and landed softly on the other side of the road, where they had buried the berserkers. Echo turned towards them.

 

"We go home now."

 

"Thank you," added Fives. They both then added something in their own language and with that, they strode out of the gate and over to the sky-ship. The side of it slid aside to reveal several others, all in the same kind of armour as Echo and Fives wore, but with blue markings. One of them stepped down from the ship and greeted Echo and Fives, and then they all climbed on. As the sky-ship took flight again, Echo and Fives turned around and waved at them.

 

Fasti waved back.

 

"Goodbye, Echo and Fives Berserker-slayers!" shouted Vébrandr.

 

Behind them, Leiknir, Dísa and Little-Fríða shouted their goodbyes as well.

 

The last thing Echo and Fives heard as they left the planet was "Far vel, Ekko ok Faivs Berserkjabani!"

 

*** * ***

 

"Echo, Fives. I need to talk to you." It was the Commander.

 

"Sir?"

 

"They couldn't find the planet you crashed on." Ahsoka sat down next to Fives.

 

Echo shook his head. "How is that possible?"

 

"We don't know. The whole system just... wasn't there anymore."

 

"As if a giant wolf had eaten it?" asked Fives. Echo chuckled at the private joke.

 

"No, more as if it had never even existed." Ahsoka frowned. Echo looked at the board between him and Fives and thought about what she had said, but couldn't figure out how it was possible for an entire planet to simply disappear. He absentmindedly moved one of his pieces.

 

Fives noticed his move, picked up the largest piece on the board (a piece of an old, broken comlink he had found somewhere) and moved it to the corner. "I win."

 

That drew Ahsoka's attention to their game. "What is it? How do you play?"

 

"Well, it doesn't really have a name, but it works like this: the white pieces, the clones, have to get their general, this one here, to one of these corner squares, while the black Seppies have to try to capture it..."


End file.
